subtle
by Tamioca
Summary: And maybe it is in these small gestures of kindness and love that I feel at home. (Hetalia/reader)
1. painting with feliciano

" _Bella_ , I think it's...great…abstract art?" he tells me, looking at my painting with confusion on his face. He smiles awkwardly, trying to mask his emotions.

"Feli, you really don't have to lie to me."

"But―"

"No, really."

He sighs, defeated. I look away (it's not my fault I'm bad at art, and it's not his fault, either; I'm just not good and that's the end of it, no one to blame or point fingers to).

"Well, _bella_ , do you want to get better?"

My attention is back to him, and I raise a brow. He looks at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

(Do I want to? I didn't know if this was my passion at all; it was just something that I wanted to try. I don't know what I'm passionate about yet―what am I supposed to feel when I do it? Should I feel it click? Should I wait? Should I try to get better first?)

When I don't give him an answer, he sits on the tall stool near his painting, and motions me to sit next to him, and so I did.

"You know, I wasn't really great at it at first, too," he begins while looking at his painting, a sort of reminiscent look in his eyes. "I didn't know how to paint people other than as sticks. And I used really weird color combinations, too!" Feliciano almost laughs at the memory.

"But I grew to love it. I didn't want to settle for just what was okay; I wanted to be good at it. I guess it's that―uh, how do you say ―determination that got me here!" He turns to me. "I think it's really just a matter of passion, and maybe you don't know if it's your passion yet. But, _bella_ , it isn't bad to try and see if it's for you, _sì_?"

I nod at him, my lips slowly curving into a smile. "Thanks, Feli." He kisses my forehead, and when he pulls back, a sincere smile is on his face.

I reach for my paintbrush.

"Guess I'll just have to find out."


	2. breakfast with lovino

I almost want to curse because I always wake up earlier than he does, meaning I apparently have the task of making breakfast everyday.

" _Bella_ ," he says, his figure hugging me from behind as I cook (bacon and eggs; they might not be able to compete with Lovino's cooking at all, but it's the most I can do). "Why are you up so early?"

"You better stop right now, Vargas. I might end up burning myself here," I tell him jokingly, and he backs away, opting to just sit on the chair near the counter. He reaches for the wine bottle.

"Don't even think about it."

A frown makes its way to his face. " _Per favore_? Just a little won't hurt."

I shoot him a glance. "There is honestly no way I'm letting you go to work drunk." He laughs ( _dear, you don't know how many times I went to work drunk_ ), and he rests his head on his palm. Slowly, his lips curve into a smile. I look at him curiously.

"What? Suddenly realized you're lucky to have me?"

His eyes focus on me (sincerity, honesty―he is always very full of such). "I always knew, and I always am very lucky―even blessed―to have you, _amore_."

When I don't reply out of embarrassment (a war of words with Lovi is a game I will never win, and he knows it), he turns on the coffee maker and puts beans into it.

"How was work yesterday, _bella_?"

An exasperated sigh leaves my lips. "There's this one client who thinks I can make a house design in a day. I can't believe him at all," I say. "How about you? You came home last night and literally crashed on the bed. Are you sure you're alright, Lovi? You could always rest, ya know?"

"We performed at this big restaurant and it lasted really long 'cause of technical difficulties," he replies. "It's all fine, though, but I think Antonio's guitar needs new strings." I hum in response. (He's really great at music, and dancing, too, and I'm glad he's pursuing his passion. I'm glad he's happy with where he is.)

I put the bacon and eggs on two plates, and as I walk past him to put them on the table, he gets two mugs and pours the coffee there.

We sit at the dining table, plates in front of us, and I take a sip of my coffee.

He cocks his head to the side. He looks out the window, and moments later, his attention is back to me, and he smiles.

" _Ti amo_."

I smile back at him. "I know."


End file.
